In the hush before dawn, the ground trembles, not from thunder, but from a promise made in silence. A promise that this is the last battlefield before the new sun rises on a land unseen.
The training ground stands ready. Old fears circle like wounded beasts, snarling for a final taste. Doubt sharpens its claws on yesterday’s regrets. Procrastination builds its fortress of sweet illusions. But tonight, they all stand on borrowed time.
The warrior within does not beg for mercy. Every scar is polished, every lesson forged into a weapon. Each breath is a drumbeat calling armies of discipline to the frontlines.
There is no more softness in the bones. No more lullabies for excuses. Every second is a seed, every minute, a field to reap. There will be no idle hands here. No wandering mind left unbridled.
This is where comfort comes to die, and willpower is reborn crowned in sweat and resolve. The old ghosts scream, but the warrior’s silence is louder.
This is the final battle. The last storm before the skies clear. The final arrow drawn before the bow is unstrung. After this, the path is clean. The horizon wide. The next journey waiting patient, ruthless, beautiful.
When dawn breaks, the final leap begins. And what leaves this ground will not look back.
Garlic Empty Stomach 
